


teeny tidbits of whimsy and schmoop

by grydo2life



Category: Arashi (Band), Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Drabbles, Fluff, M/M, maybe smut later idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:53:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7514281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grydo2life/pseuds/grydo2life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ohmiya drabbles. Lots of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. set one

**Author's Note:**

> So, a while ago I fell back into JE fandom and decided it would be a great idea to start writing Ohmiya drabbles as a way to get my daily writing done. It has since been 4 months. The file is over 40k words long. _It is still growing._
> 
> A few certain someones (you know who you are!) have been encouraging me to start posting them. So... here we are.
> 
> I won't be posting all of the ones that I write, because some of them are truly terrible. I'm also not promising quality here. OOC may be a thing. But there are a lot of them and I'll update as I proof-read the ones that I have. So I hope you enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) Ohno gets distracted and has his wallet stolen  
> (2) Nino is stubborn and will not be bribed  
> (3) psychic investigators!Ohmiya AU (idk don't ask)  
> (4) Nino is a sneaky cuddle bug  
> (5) a little something set in darkdropout's [My Girl AU](http://darkdropout.livejournal.com/tag/ohno%20has%20a%20daughter%20au%21) where Ohno has a daughter.

**_get your hands out of my pants (no wait don’t)_ **

All things considered, Nino is really more shocked that it took this long for Ohno to lose his wallet than he is that it happened at all. But still.

“How the hell did they even get their hand into your pocket in the first place?” He demands, shoving his own fingers into the fabric of Ohno’s pants as if to emphasize. “These things are practically painted on!”

Ohno squirms a little, his face scrunching up in a look that translates into either “danger!” or “that tickles!” depending on his mood. Nino considers him, then gives a deliberate wiggle just to watch Ohno jerk and make a grab for his wrist.

“I don’t know!” Ohno whines. He tugs Nino’s hand out of his pants, a pout forming. “I was distracted.”

“Distracted.” Nino scoffs. “By what?”

Ohno doesn’t so much look as Nino as he does blatantly leer, his eyes traveling not-so-innocently down Nino’s form. Nino, who is wearing his own pair of stupidly tight jeans, a long sleeved shirt that fits him beautifully, and a thin scarf draped artfully across his shoulders.

“Well,” Ohno says. “You were walking in front of me.”

Nino waits for more. When none is forthcoming, he prompts, “And…?”

Ohno tilts his head and says, loud enough that the entire room can hear, “And your ass looks really good in those pants.”

It takes a second for that to process. When it does, however, Ohno is not disappointed: Nino blushes and squeaks out an adorable “Shut up!” which is sadly drowned out by Aiba’s catcalling, Jun’s groan of “Get a room!” and Sho’s high-pitched “NOT IN PUBLIC!”

 

* * *

 

**_bribery will get you no where_ **

“Nino. Nino, please? Please Nino?”

Nino grunts a little, rolls over and tries to bury his head under the nearest pillow — Ohno’s, he realizes immediately. He can tell from the scent. It’s pleasant, makes him want to press his face close and inhale.

The real thing, he decides when he does exactly that, would be so much better.

“ _Nino_.”

A finger prods into his blanket nest and bravely pokes him in one cheek. Nino considers biting it, just on principle.

“Come on, please?”

He’s probably not going to stop any time soon, Nino decides. He grumbles wordlessly, even as a hand slides down his cheek and tugs at his sleep shirt insistently. Knowing now that returning to sleep would be utterly futile, Nino cracks open an eye and glares. “Go away, Oh-chan.”

Ohno pouts. “No.” He says stubbornly. “Not until you say yes.”

“No.” Nino says instead. He rolls away, tries to take the blanket with him but Ohno holds it fast and refuses to let go.

“I’ll have sex with you,” Ohno offers.

Nino snorts. He tugs at the blanket ineffectively. “You’ll do that anyway.”

“Well yeah,” Ohno acknowledges. “But I’ll do that thing you like. With the—mphghh.” Ohno is interrupted mid-sentence as Nino, demonstrating a remarkable amount of speed for someone so rudely awoken, sits up and shoves a hand over his mouth. Ohno goes briefly cross-eyed as he tries to look at the sudden obstruction. He reaches up to touch one of Nino’s bright-red ears curiously.

Then he licks Nino’s palm.

“AUGH!” Nino jerks his hand away, shaking it. “Satoshi, that’s disgusting!”

Ohno has the gall to laugh. “You weren’t saying that last night.”

 

* * *

 

**_you meddling kids_ **

“I’m putting you on a _leash_.” Nino announces, glaring as he douses a cotton ball in alcohol and begins to attack the scrapes on Ohno’s face with relish.

Ohno flinches, but to his credit knows better than to try to squirm away. Nino is scary when he’s angry, but he’s worse when he’s feeling protective. And Ohno knows from experience that Nino will actually sit on him to keep him still.

“I didn’t mean to,” He says instead. He yelps a little when Nino swipes at him with more viciousness than is strictly necessary.

“A leash.” Nino repeats. “Because that is clearly the only way to keep you from following strange ghosts into dark hallways, honestly Oh-chan, _what were you even thinking?_ ”

Ohno pouts. “She just seemed so sad—”

“And lonely. Yes, yes. You say that every time.” Nino sighs and sits back on his heels. His hands are still on Ohno’s face, but they’re gentle now. “Honestly.” He repeats, and his voice has gone soft and a little bit weary. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Kiss it better?” Ohno offers hopefully.

Nino makes a derisive sound, but the corner of his mouth twitches up. Carefully, he cups one of Ohno’s cheeks and tugs him forward — just enough so that he can press a barely-there kiss to one of the cuts on Ohno’s chin.

“You are the worst psychic investigator ever,” Nino says as he pulls away.

Ohno shrugs. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Nino doesn’t answer directly. But when Ohno peers at him, he sees a shy little grin that tells him he’s right.

 

* * *

 

**_easy like sunday morning_ **

“Mmphm,” Nino says, winding his arms around Ohno’s waist and pulling. Ohno falls back onto the mattress with a laugh, one hand automatically coming up to cradle the back of Nino’s head, the other going around his shoulders.

“Nino,” he says, still giggling. Then, he corrects, “Kazu. Kazu, I have to go.”

“Mphm,” Nino repeats, this time more of a grumble. He tightens his grip. “No. Sleep.”

Ohno squirms a bit. “But Kazu,” he whines, “I’ll miss the boat.”

Nino mutters something into his shoulder that sounds suspiciously like _good_ , making Ohno pout. But then Nino bites him there, non-too-gentle, and Ohno finds himself abruptly distracted. He is also far more pliant when Nino starts to wrestle him back under the covers.

(Though he does fuss until Nino gives him a proper good morning kiss. Just because.)

 

* * *

 

**_sleepy time darling_ **

Haruka falls asleep probably sometime around when the variety program starts, but Ohno doesn’t notice until the credits are rolling. He turns to Nino and finds him smiling, a little bit shy and soft around the edges, but before Ohno can lean in and kiss him like he suddenly very much wants to do, Nino lifts a single finger to his lips and looks down at the space between them meaningfully.

Ohno looks too. Haruka is snuggled into his side and dead to the world. Apparently _just one last episode, Satoshi-kun, please!_ was a little too much for her. Ohno checks the time and winces; it’s a school night.

“You should get her to bed,” Nino whispers.

“Ah,” Ohno returns, rather uselessly. He is immensely grateful, at times, that Haruka is so much like him; she can sleep through just about anything, including Ohno’s rather unskilled attempt at picking her up.

It’s hard, he thinks as he carefully makes his way back to her bed. Carrying her without her being awake to help is hard. Being a parent is hard. It’s all very hard, and Ohno feels the weight of it in full force as he lays her down and tucks her in with the focus of someone that is still learning the steps. When the blanket is up to her chin and her little fish nightlight turned on, he hesitates.

He should do something, he thinks. There is something missing, and isn't it progress that he can catch that now, when it happens? Haruka is tiny and vulnerable in her sleep, _cute_ , and Ohno can't help but love her down to his toes. But still. Something is missing,

It’s on instinct that he reaches out and smooths her hair away from her forehead, thinking of his mother and the way she used to do the same for him. It’s a little more deliberate when he leans down and kisses her on the forehead, but that feels right too, so he thinks it's okay. When he pulls back, it still feels like something doesn’t quite fit — but the feeling has abated a bit. He thinks, maybe, he’s done well enough for tonight.

But maybe he should stay for just a little while longer, to be certain.

Nino is waiting for him when he comes out, almost a half hour later. Ohno reclaims his spot on the couch and automatically lifts his arm so Nino can scoot over and invade his personal space, the way that Nino does. It leaves them pressed together from shoulder to knee, but not unpleasantly so.

"Everything okay?" Nino nudges at him, curious but not pushy. "You were in there a while."

"It's fine," Ohno tells him. He grins a little as he marvels at the fact that it actually, maybe, kind of is. “Ne, Nino. Did you know Haruka-chan sleeps like I do?”


	2. set two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) Nino takes home a scruffy vagrant (hint: it's totally Ohno) AU  
> (2) Ohno develops an obsession over a local bar pianist  
> (3) shamelessly self-indulgent baby!fic because I CAN  
> (4) random-ass college!AU, also because I can  
> (5) idk Nino is cute with glasses okay

**_can I keep him?_ **

Sho-chan is going to have kittens, Nino decides. Cute, fluffy little kittens that Aiba will immediately make off with.

Jun, on the other hand, will probably just murder Nino outright for being an idiot.

All of this is, of course, provided that Nino’s new houseguest doesn’t turn out to be a homicidal drifter on the run and kill him in his sleep first.

“Do you want tea?” Nino calls from his kitchen, where he is already setting out the kettle for himself. There is a bit of shuffling from the living room, and then a round and somewhat scruffy-looking face pokes into the doorway.

“You have a lot of books on music,” Ohno says, rather than answering him outright.

Nino interprets this as a ‘yes’ and sets out a second cup. “Well,” he says, “I _am_ a musician. It kind of comes with the job.”

Ohno makes a vague noise and steps into the small space between Nino’s counters. He looks around curiously for a bit, the same way he had when Nino had left him in the living room. Nino turns away to fuss with the kettle.

After a long stretch of comfortable silence, Ohno finally asks, “Will you play something for me?”

Nino glances over his shoulder. Ohno is hovering nearby, rocking on his heels like an impatient child. He’s got that dreamy look in his eyes, the same one from the train station platform that had made it so hard for Nino to turn away from him. That had, in the end, pushed to Nino offer a complete stranger a place to sleep and a hot meal.

_Kittens_ , Nino repeats to himself, and then smiles.

“Sure, Oh-chan,” he says, “I’ll play whatever you like.”

 

* * *

 

**_play me a memory_ **

He’s not there every night.

Ohno learns this the hard way. He comes in on Sunday, then Monday, and then Tuesday, but the piano remains lonely and ignored on the stage, lights dimmed around it and cover closed over the keys. It’s Wednesday now and Ohno is starting to wonder if this might become a habit.

Jun, he thinks, would not approve.

He takes a sip of his beer and is thinking about heading home when someone says, “He only comes in on Saturdays.”

Ohno’s attention snaps to the bartender, who up until now has been rubbing at the already spotless counter with a terry cloth, trying to appear busy on an otherwise slow night. The bartender smiles at him in a open, friendly sort of way that makes Ohno want to smile back.

“You’re looking for Nino, right?” The bartender says, putting his elbows on the bar and leaning in close to Ohno. Ohno doesn’t know any ‘Nino’ and he thinks about telling the bartender this, but as he takes in the other man’s delighted expression, he abruptly decides it’s too much work to bother trying to explain and just nods instead. The bartender’s grin widens. “I knew it. I told Sho-chan it would be good for business to let him play.”

Ohno squints a little, mind slow from the alcohol and half a week’s worth of staying out too late looking for his mysterious pianist. When he finally does connect the dots, he blinks once, slowly, and then gives the bartender his full attention.

“Saturday?” He repeats. The bartender nods. Ohno returns the gesture firmly, more for his own benefit, and echoes with determination, “Saturdays.”

 

* * *

 

**_baby baby baby_ **

Nino expects a lot of things when they bring the baby home.

Chaos, for one thing, as their definition of “normal” reshifts to accommodate a tiny new person. Long nights without asleep followed by longer days at work. Crippling insecurities about completely fucking up an _entire person oh dear god what were they thinking_.

Most of all, though, he expects there to be _crying_.

Really, he should have known better to expect anything normal from any child of Ohno’s, adopted or not.

“Do you think she’s sick?” He worries, fussing with her blanket and stuffed frog and the feet of her onesie pajamas. “Oh-chan. What if she’s sick?”

Ohno, who is collapsed face-first onto their couch, makes a noise that can only barely be described as human. There is a long pause, and then the creak of couch springs as he hauls himself upright. He shuffles over and a few seconds later, Nino feels a cold nose pressing against the side of his neck as Ohno nuzzles at him sleepily. Ohno peers over his shoulder and down at their daughter. She peers back up, quiet but for an occasional baby-sound.

They regard each other seriously for a long moment.

“She’s fine,” Ohno finally concludes. And then, “I think the cloud on her mobile is her favorite.”

Nino huffs a laugh. But he feels better anyway.

 

* * *

 

**_my honey honey koi no Study_ **

Nino, Ohno realizes after a few weeks, is bad for his study habits.

Jun snorts inelegantly. “What study habits?”

Ohno ignores this. He is, after all, in despair. “I think we have to break up,” he tells Nino mournfully during their next date. (’Date’ being code for ‘making out on Sho-chan’s couch because Jun kicked them out for being gross again,’ naturally.) “You’re bad for my study habits.”

Nino, who is perched on Ohno’s chest with the zipper of his pants down, looks bemused. “What study habits?”

“Can you please not?” adds Sho pleadingly, from where he is standing in the corner with a hand over his eyes, having wandered in for a snack and gotten more of an eyeful than he ever wanted.

“Sho-chan, shh!” says Aiba, Sho’s actual roommate, who is not-so-discreetly recording them with his phone. “They’re just getting to the good part.”

Nino, who has just now noticed their presence, throws a sock at him. With the mood effectively killed, he slides off of Ohno and fixes his pants. Ohno pouts a little — though whether it’s from being ignored or Nino’s sudden distance is anyone’s guess.

“Nino,” he interrupts. “Did you hear me? I said we have to break up.”

“I heard you, Oh-chan.” Nino assures, reaching over to pat Ohno on the head placatingly. He looks very much like he’s trying not to laugh. “Tell me: how am I bad for your non-existent study habits?”

The little pout becomes a bigger one. “I’m gonna fail my classes because of you.”

Nino blinks. There is a long silence.

Then, “Oh-chan… your only class this semester is an art elective.”

“Yes,” Ohno confirms. “I keep drawing you.” Ohno allows this to sink in for a moment. When it becomes apparent that no one but him is understanding the problem, he adds, “Sensei says if I turn in one more sketchbook full of porn, she’s gonna fail me.”

“Oh god,” Sho says faintly, though it’s hard to hear over Aiba, who shouts at that moment, “I KNEW THAT WAS WHY YOU DIDN’T WANT TO SHARE THEM!!!”

Nino, for his part, falls right over from laughing so hard. Ohno pouts and kicks at him half-heartedly, then yelps when Nino snakes a hand up to tug him down onto the floor as well so that he can demonstrate all the very important reasons they shouldn’t break up. Like his excellent cuddling skills.

 

* * *

 

**_look this way_ **

“Oh,” Ohno says.

Nino blushes and looks away, self-consciously adjusting the black frames perched across his nose. “I lost a contact,” he explains, unexpectedly shy.

Ohno is very quiet for a long moment. Nino would be worried about this, except for the fact that Ohno is _also_ staring with wide, transfixed eyes and an expression he normally reserves for shiny objects and loud colors.

“…cute.” Ohno finally decides. He scoots forward so he can wrap himself around Nino like an octopus, making Nino laugh and shove at him without any real intent of pushing him away. “Nino is cute,” he says, hiding his face against Nino’s shoulder.

“You’re so weird,” Nino tells him. But he doesn’t make him move.


	3. set three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) struggling-artist!Ohno meets Nino, who is in a tree because I said so.  
> (2) Nino is a thief. Ohno doesn't mind.  
> (3) Arashi plays video games. Ohno has excellent methods of keeping Nino under control.  
> (4) Ohno and Nino being adorable and in love.  
> (5) newlyweds!Ohmiya discuss their living arrangements.

**_you little imp_ **

It’s the giggling that catches Ohno’s attention.

He’s used to tuning things out while he works. The park, despite its reputation for being peaceful, it actually a fairly noisy environment. It’s loud and active and there are always people about. And it’s exactly this energy that attracts Ohno to it; there’s inspiration to be had everywhere.

Usually.

Today has been difficult. It feels like his brush has been fighting every stroke, the paints refusing to mix properly, the canvas bending itself so nothing ever seems quite right. Ohno has been getting steadily frustrated for the last hour and is now considering quitting for the day.

This is when he hears it.

The _gigging_.

Ohno has set himself up underneath a big oak tree in a far corner of the park; the ambient sounds are faint here, muffled as most of the crowds are closer to the playground and entrances. He doesn’t actually see anyone when he glances around, save for people off in the distance.

He shrugs it off and goes back to work. He has only managed a few strokes when it comes again. This time, he’s waiting for it, follows the sound of it up, up, up, and—

“Oh,” Ohno says, surprised. “Hello.”

The boy in the tree is about as small as Ohno and appears utterly fearless where he perches on a thick branch. He’s looking down at Ohno, curious, amused. There is something positively impish about him.

He’s very cute.

“That woman looks like a pig.” He says, mischief in his eyes and a grin on his face.

Ohno’s brown creases. He glances around, looking for this pig woman. It takes him a moment to realize the boy is referring to his painting. Ohno looks at it. He frowns.

“You’re right,” he sighs. “I suppose she does.”

The giggling returns. It’s a fresh sort of sound, a little bit brash and quirky but interesting in all the ways Ohno likes. Ohno considers his work for a few moments, then cleans his brush carefully and sets it aside. He goes and sits beneath the tree instead, finding the shade to be pleasant in the summer heat.

A few moments later, the boy joins him.

They sit side by side for a moment, the quiet stretching out into something comfortable and soothing. Ohno’s fingers itch to pick up his brush again, but he pushes this feeling aside for the moment.

“I’m Ohno,” Ohno says, eventually. The boy’s eyes flicker across him briefly, as if assessing him.

“…Ohno,” the boy repeats, and Ohno nods. A moment passes, and then Ohno is rewarded with another grin. This one is softer, kinder, a touch shy. “I’m Nino.”

Ohno smiles and bumps their shoulders together. “Nice to meet you, Nino.”

 

* * *

 

**_sneaky thief_ **

Nino steals it because it’s soft and warm and smells like Ohno. It’s too big for either of them and Nino practically swims in it, but he loves the way he can tug the sleeves over his hands and curl his legs under its bulky fabric.

Ohno only notices a few weeks later, when he’s over for dinner and the two are cuddling on the couch.

“This is mine, isn’t it?” He comments, amused, plucking at one overly-large shoulder.

“No,” Nino assures him as he jabs at his controller with force.

“No?”

“No.” Nino repeats. “It’s mine now. I stole it.”

Ohno goes, “Ahh,” like this explains it, and then presses his grin into Nino’s shoulder.

 

* * *

 

**_it’s all fun and games until someone gets cuddled_ **

“Off with his head!” Nino cackles, and Sho turns away from where he has been whispering quietly with Aiba to stare at the screen in horror.

“Nino, no!” He cries, desperate, but it’s too late. His little pixel character has already lost his head — quite literally — to Nino’s rogue. Never one to pass up the chance to add insult to injury, Nino executes a perfect taunt right after.

“Nino is evil,” Ohno notes, a little awed, as he watches. His own character had been dispatched around 20 minutes ago and he hasn’t bothered to try to respawn.

“So mean…” Sho whimpers. Aiba pats him on the head comfortingly, then goes back to his own screen, where his avatar is happily feeding the dozen-odd pets he’s collected in the game.

“Leader,” Jun says. He’s clutching his controller so tight that his knuckles are white and there is a look of grim determination on his face that suggests he’s about to do something drastic. “Do something about your boyfriend before I kill him.”

Ohno hums thoughtfully. “…okay.” He agrees. Then he reaches out, wraps his arms around Nino’s middle, and hauls. Nino lets out an undignified yelp that is promptly muffled by the way that Ohno rolls on top of him and proceeds to forcibly cuddle him into not-quite-submission.

“GET OFF ME, YOU LUG!” Nino shrieks. “I WAS WINNING!”

“Mm,” Ohno says, pressing his nose into Nino’s collarbone. “Nino smells nice.”

“JUN I WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS!”

“Uh-huh,” Jun says, uninterested, as his mage proceeds to mercilessly destroy Nino’s motionless avatar.

 

* * *

 

**_all those soft moments in between_ **

“Ow,” says Ohno belatedly. He lifts his head to peer at Nino, who is straddling his hips and showing no sign of moving any time soon. “You’re heavy.” Ohno comments, and slides his hands up Nino’s knees to rest on his thighs.

Nino snorts, “I am not,” and leans down over Ohno until they’re so close their noses touch.

“So heavy,” Ohno insists. “I’m being crushed.”

As if to emphasize, he fakes an attempt at lifting Nino off of him, grunts as if this requires an excessive amount of force that he is simply incapable of giving. Nino laughs, maybe at his joke, maybe at his expression. He’s pretty like this. Ohno watches him, fascinated and fond and very much in love.

Then he reaches up and jams his fingers into Nino’s ribs, wiggling them cruelly. Nino squeals and rolls off, and Ohno takes shameless advantage, reversing their positions so he’s on top.

Nino makes a noise of protest. Ohno just grins down at him.

“Caught you,” he says. He’s very pleased with himself about it.

Nino glares for a moment, ever defiant. But only a moment; that’s as long as it takes a smile to overtake him, and there’s that cute little shy look that he only gets when Ohno’s made him genuinely happy. Ohno adores this look. It makes him do silly things like lean down to nuzzle at Nino’s cheek affectionately.

Nino chuckles and doesn’t push him away. “Yeah,” he murmurs, laying his hands on Ohno’s hips and stroking the tiny patch of skin where Ohno’s shirt has ridden up. “I guess you did.”

 

* * *

 

**_domestic bliss_ **

Nino wakes up one night, Ohno wrapped around him like an octopus, and sighs with realization. He pokes at Ohno until the other man stirs and says, "Satoshi. Satoshi, we need a new place to live."

Ohno yawns and rubs at his face, more asleep than not. "Why?"

Nino looks at him with a frown. " _Because_ ," he grumbles, "neither of our places is big enough for all of our stuff."

"'s why we have different apartments." Ohno points out. He squirms when Nino pinches him.

"We're _married now_ ," Nino says. "We're not supposed to have different apartments."

Ohno goes quiet for a moment, stares at him intently, and Nino realizes he may be revealed more with that comment than he really wanted to. He tries to roll away to hide his blush, but Ohno clings to him tightly and won't let him move.

"You wanna live together?" Ohno says. "Like-- husband and wife?"

"Husband and _husband_." Nino snaps.

Ohno grins and croons, "You wanna _live together_."

Nino scowls at him and starts to wriggle, fulling intent on getting out of Ohno’s grip so he can storm off and maybe give the bedroom door a satisfying slam. Ohno's response is just to roll on top of him and press his cheek against Nino's.

"Okay," he says happily. "We can start looking tomorrow."


	4. set four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) Nino invades Ohno's bed  
> (2) (almost) smut  
> (3) Ohno's art can be odd, but he has good intentions  
> (4) office!AU where Nino is Ohno's boss (with mentions of smut)  
> (5) Nino's been avoiding Ohno; Ohno wants to know why

_**invader** _

There is someone in Ohno’s bed.

There is someone in Ohno’s bed, and he’s wearing Ohno’s clothes.

“Nino,” Ohno says, insistent as he shakes Nino’s shoulder. “Nino, roll over.”

Nino grumbles and curls into a little ball.

Ohno sighs. “Nino. There’s no room for me.”

“Mhfph,” Nino says. “Go ‘way Oh-chan.”

This should be irritating. Ohno is _tired_ ; he’s had a long day and he really wants to sleep. Nino is being a nuisance. It should make him angry. But, perhaps in reflection for how hopeless Ohno is when faced with Nino in any circumstances, all Ohno can really do is smile faintly at the way that Nino manages to take up very little space while also taking over the entire bed in the process.

Nino makes a quiet, sleepy noise. He nuzzles at Ohno’s pillow.

_Cute_ , Ohno thinks with a sigh, and then begins the process of figuring out how to get into his own bed.

(It’s not really that big of an annoyance; it wouldn’t feel like his bed without Nino in it anyway.)

 

* * *

 

_**it’s a battlefield out there** _

As soon as Ohno walks through the door, he finds himself seized by the lapels and forcefully yanked inside his apartment. The door is slammed and Ohno is shoved back against it. He barely has a chance to breathe before lips descend against his — harsh, brutal. Teeth biting, tongue pressing between his lips.

It’s sudden. A little desperate.

So incredibly _hot_.

Ohno shoves back and Nino stumbles. It’s enough; Nino might be a bit taller, but Ohno’s got weight on him and he’s not afraid to use it. They go down together, falling over the genkan. Nino grunts when they land, contorts his lithe little body so he can hitch a leg over Ohno’s hips and leverage himself up. He perches there, presses his hands against Ohno’s chest to balance himself as he rolls his hips. It drags a groan from Ohno.

“Fuck,” Nino breathes out. “What the hell took you so long? I’ve been waiting.”

Ohno tries to buck under him; it’s difficult with Nino’s weight. “Sho-kun,” he says. “Wanted to go out for drinks.”

“Hope he wasn’t too disappointed.”

“I really don’t want to talk about Sho right now,” and Ohno twists so that he’s on top, catches Nino’s wrists and presses them against the wood floor. When he looks down, he aches at what he sees — Nino spread out for him, cheeks flushed, his eyes half-lidded with pupils so blown that all Ohno can see is the black of his irises.

He’s so goddamn beautiful. Ohno fixes it so he’s still holding Nino down with one hand and drags the other across Nino’s cheek, his lips, his neck and chest.

“So pretty,” Ohno murmurs, lifting his hand back up to cup Nino’s cheek. He draws his thumb across Nino’s bottom lip, applies a little pressure until the tip of it slips into Nino’s mouth. “I wanna paint you like this sometime.”

Nino nips at the pad of his thumb. Such a tease. “You’ll have to tie me down, first.”

Ohno inhales sharply at the mental image that conjures. “I can do that,” he promises.

 

* * *

 

_**inspiration is a fickle mistress** _

“Oh-chan,” Nino says, in a tone that is not quite dangerous but hedging that direction. “Why is my head a balloon?”

Ohno lifts his head from the sculpture he has been devoting his morning to, looks over his shoulder and wonders when it was that Nino wandered into his studio. “Hi, Nino.” He says, because that’s the proper thing to say when you’re happy to see someone.

Nino’s lips quirk up in a smile that Ohno is quite sure is instinctive more than intentional. “Hi, Oh-chan.” He parrots. Then jabs a finger at the painting propped against the far wall to dry. “Balloon-head. Why?”

Ohno looks at the canvas in question. It’s very bright, all vibrant colors and odd angles. There’s a man wearing a suit and yellow bowtie depicted in it with, yes, a large balloon for a head. Nino’s features have been painstaking painted across the surface of the balloon. Ohno smiles. Looking at it prompts a warm, fluttering feeling in him, and Ohno is pleased that that feeling has remained even now that he’s finished working on it.

He opens his mouth only to be interrupted by Nino, who threatens at the last moment, “If you say one word about heads and hot air you _will_ sleep on the couch all week.”

Ohno smiles; he likes it when Nino is prickly. “Nino makes me feel all floaty,” he says fondly.

Nino expression goes pinched and confused, which Ohno takes for success. He turns back to his sculpture and leaves Nino to puzzle it over.

 

* * *

 

_**office drones have all the fun** _

Ohno starts working at Arashi Towers on a Tuesday. It takes him until Sunday before he ends up on his knees under Ninomiya’s desk, petite hands in his hair and a heavy weight on his tongue.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Ninomiya tells him afterward, when he can speak again and Ohno’s vision is no longer full of swimming stars. Ninomiya regards him carefully, then reaches out and runs his fingers through Ohno’s hair, straightens his collar. “Sho-chan is going to have a fit when he finds out. He’ll make me sit through another lecture on sexual harassment.”

Ohno merely grins. He doesn’t feel particularly harassed. Ninomiya snorts at him, but his eyes are twinkling.

The phone on Ninomiya’s desk rings then. Ninomiya gives it a baleful look.

“Never a dull moment,” he sighs and waves Ohno away. “Back to work then, Oh-chan.”

Ohno tries not to beam too hard at the nickname. If the eyeroll Ninomiya gives him is any indication, he doesn’t try quite hard enough. “Yes sir, Ninomiya-san.”

A tiny huff. “For god’s sake,” Ninomiya says. “You just blew me under my desk. Call me Nino.”

Ohno no longer bothers to try. “Yes, Nino.”

He goes back to work obediently, but his mind is far away from the spreadsheets and documents, all the way back in Nino’s office, thinking up something fun for tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

_**can’t run from love** _

It takes Ohno all day to pin Nin down. And by ‘pin’ he means literally — the only way he can get the slighter man to stay in one spot, Ohno finds, is to creep up on him when he’s dozing on the couch and unceremoniously flop on top of him.

Nino grunts, surprised, and begins squirming under Ohno’s weight. “Leader, what the hell.”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Ohno pouts, cuddling harder.

“I haven’t.” Nino insists. More squirming. Ohno wraps his arms around Nino to hold him still. “Let go, you freak!”

“No.” Ohno says. “You’ve been avoiding me today and I want to know why.”

Ohno went into this knowing Nino very well, so he’s not expecting it to be easy. Which is why he’s thrown when Nino abruptly _stops_. His whole body slumps and goes limp, like the fight’s been drained out of him, and he stares at the ceiling for a long time before he finally answers.

“You know why.” Nino says. Soft. Unsteady.

Ohno does. “You ran away.” He says. “You kissed me and then you ran away.”

Nino winces. “You didn’t exactly give me any encouragement, Oh-chan.”

“You surprised me!” Ohno pulls back so that he’s sitting on Nino, their faces inches apart. “I was surprised. I didn’t think it was real, and then you ran away before I could do anything.”

Nino stares at him — his eyes, his lips, back again — and there is something like hope starting to blossom in his gaze. It makes Ohno smile, brush his hair back and out of his face. Nino wets his lips and whisper, “What — what would you have done, then? If I hadn’t…”

Ohno slides a hand down, cups Nino’s cheek with a gentle grip. “Why don’t you find out?”

Nino does.

 


	5. set five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) The mermaid!Nino AU that nobody asked for  
> (2) kid!Nino's love is cute. And violent. Adult!Nino's is much the same.  
> (3) Sick Fic: Nino Edition  
> (4) Sick Fic: Ohno Edition  
> (5) Ohno's an art student looking for inspiration at the museum. He finds it in Nino. What a creeper.

**_something fishy_ **

Ohno feels the tug on his line, strong enough that it nearly pulls him right off the pier, and gets excited enough that he stands up and starts reeling with more enthusiasm than he’s felt all week.

When he finally hauls his catch up, he can only stare, unsure of what to say.

“Um,” he says eventually. That feels about right.

The young — man? Does it count as being a man when there are no legs, just a long, gradual transition from smooth pale skin to shiny yellow scales? — glares at him. He begins to untangle the hook from his hair, all the while snarling something in a language that Ohno can’t understand.

“Sorry?” Ohno tries, sheepish. This earns him a scalding look. And then, before he can think to defend himself, thin arms are grabbing for him. Ohno gets out a shout before they both go tumbling into the water.

For a second there is panic and flailing and _I’m going to die--_

—then hands on his face, warm lips against his, and it’s like every ounce of air in his lungs is being sucked out forcefully.

It hurts.

And then it doesn’t.

When the kiss is broken, Ohno is still so shocked from the force of it that it takes him a moment to realize he’s no longer drowning.

“Oh,” he says, somehow more baffled now than he was before.

“ _You_ ,” the merman snarls. His tail swishes back and forth lazily and Ohno’s attention is drawn to it briefly. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to catch people with hooks?”

“…well,” Ohno says after a long pause. “No.”

The merman looks at him in a way that suggests he thinks Ohno might be a few lures short of a full tackle box. Ohno isn’t bothered by this; it’s an oddly charming expression.

“I’m Ohno,” he introduces. “And I’m very sorry about catching you with a fishing hook?”

He holds out a hand. The merman stares at it for a long moment, brow drawn together. Then he swims around and behind Ohno, reappearing on his other side far closer than he had been a moment ago.

“You’re strange.” The mermaid decides. “And you don’t have a tail and you don’t even know how to _breathe_.” He tilts his head, baffled. Ohno offers a tentative smile and is pleased when he gets a sly little grin in return. “I’m Nino.”

“Nino,” Ohno repeats. He likes the way it rolls off his tongue.

 

* * *

 

**_schoolyard romance (Nino style)_ **

Ohno meets Nino because Nino kicks him off the playground swing, then gets dragged back by the ear three minutes later by his furious mother. She apologizes profusely to Ohno’s mama, then shoves her rowdy child into a formal bow and makes him do the same.

“You make me sound like such a bully,” Nino whines whenever Ohno tells this story. His ears are red and Ohno bets the rest of him is too, but it’s hard to tell when Nino has his face pressed into Ohno’s shoulder to hide it.

“You are a bully,” Jun points out. Nino flips him off with a scowl.

Ohno, for his part, simply smiles and pets Nino’s hair. “That’s just how Nino shows his love.”

“Shut up,” Nino grouses, and kicks him off the couch.

“Nino-love!” Aiba cheers. “Now kiss!”

 

* * *

 

**_love sick (not really, it’s a cold)_ **

“Ah,” Ohno says when he opens up the door to the third floor studio room that nobody ever uses and finds a small nest made of coats that have been pilfered from the rest of Arashi. “Found you!”

Nino peeks out from where he has temporarily transformed into a cloth-burrito, but only long enough to glare. His eyes are blood-shot and what little Ohno can see of his face is flushed, no doubt from the fever that Sho had mentioned earlier. “Wasn’t hiding,” he grumbles around a raw throat that makes Ohno wince in sympathy.

“Uh-huh,” Ohno indulges. “I still found you though.”

“Good for you,” Nino burrows back down. “Now go away.”

Ohno pouts and he’s sure the force of it must be strong enough that Nino can feel it, because a second later Nino sighs. Ohno takes this for permission to invade.

“Oh-chan,” Nino grouses, exasperated even as he rearranges himself to make room. “You’re gonna catch my cold.”

“That’s okay,” Ohno assures him, happily wrapping around Nino and pressing their bodies together so they become an odd puzzle of limbs and cuddles. “I don’t mind Nino’s germs.”

“Idiot,” Nino snips, and then nuzzles closer.

 

* * *

 

**_love sick? (still nope)_ **

Nino is waiting for him when he wakes up. He’s sitting on the bed beside Ohno, playing on his 3DS with the volume turned all the way down. There’s a tray on the nightstand beside him, a bowl and a cup sitting on top.

Nino pauses his game and gives him his full attention. Ohno smiles, because even though he feels like death, it’s still nice to be prioritized.

“How are you feeling?” Nino questions, reaching out to brush his hand against Ohno’s forehead.

“’m okay,” Ohno says. It sounds like a lie when it comes out scratchy and nasal. “Sleepy.”

Nino hums. His frown as he withdraws his hand suggests that Ohno’s fever is still higher than he’d like. “Eat something first,” he instructs. He sets down his game and helps Ohno sit up, propping up some pillows behind him for support. Then he takes the tray and sets it on Ohno’s lap. The soup in the bowl is still warm, but cool enough that he can eat it without worrying about burning his mouth or throat. The tea has honey in it.

When Ohno has eaten as much as he can (much less than usual but more than Nino manages even when he’s healthy) and drunk the last of the tea, Nino tucks him back in. He leans over and presses a kiss to Ohno’s forehead and Ohno smiles sleepily.

“Nino takes such good care of me,” he murmurs, catching Nino’s hand in his and squeezing.

Nino squeezes back and doesn’t try to take it back. “Sleep,” he tells Ohno.

Ohno smiles and nestles down into his blankets. He drifts off to the sound of Nino pressing buttons on his game with one hand.

 

* * *

 

**_draw me like one of your french girls_ **

Ohno is halfway through sketching a particularly striking profile before he realizes he has long since stopped paying attention to any of the art around him. Which, he supposes, defeats the purpose of going to a gallery for inspiration. But he glances down at his sketchpad and rethinks that — there are least three pages filled with loose drawings, which is three pages more than he’s managed all month.

The fact that they’re all of the thin boy that’s been whining to his taller, more stylish friend as he’s been dragged around the room is of little concern. He has a strange-cute face.

Ohno likes strange-cute things.

He is prepared to leave it at that, pack up his pencils and pad and head out for the day despite the tug of reluctance it brings in him. Right up until the boy sits down beside him, his friend having abandoned him to go stare at a pretentious sculpture in the corner.

“You know,” the boy says, “I’m pretty sure people usually ask before they draw — several pages of pictures of someone, wow.” The boy’s eyebrows go up as he takes Ohno’s sketchpad with little resistance, flipping back through the drawings Ohno has done of him. “I feel like I should charge you for my time, jeez.”

Ohno flushes. “I like your face,” he admits.

This earns him an odd look, but that’s alright. Ohno’s used to them.

“…right,” the boy says. Up close, he’s much cuter. Ohno spies a mole on his chin that he’d missed before and his fingers itch to grab his pencils.

“Will you model for me?” He asks, before he can think better. “I can pay you.”

Another odd look. Ohno braces himself for rejection.

He does not brace himself for, “With or without clothes?”

Which is probably why he slips off his bench in response.

“Are you okay?” The boy says, leaning over the edge of the bench to look down at him. The words are concerned but the way he says them makes Ohno think he’s being laughed at. A few people are starring at them. The boy’s friend is still in the corner, but from this angle Ohno can see that he has his head in his hands.

“I—” Ohno begins. “Whatever you want?”

This earns him a snort of a laugh from the boy, which is also cute but not something Ohno thinks he can draw. Maybe with clay—

“Tell you what,” the boy says, reaching a hand down. Ohno stares at it for a moment before allowing himself to be pulled up. “You can pay me for services already rendered by taking me out to dinner.” He pats Ohno’s sketchbook once, then passes it back to him. “And we’ll take it from there.”

“Okay,” Ohno says.

“I’m Nino, by the way. And the one trying to strangle himself with that sculpture made out of ties is Jun.”

“Okay,” Ohno repeats. He is already picking out the colors he wants to use when he gets Nino back to his studio. Paints and pastels and maybe a touch of charcoal…

Nino laughs. “You’re an odd one.” He decides. From his tone, it’s apparently not a bad thing.

 


	6. set six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) bakery!AU where Nino's hopeless for his favorite regular customer  
> (2) a not-so-awkward morning after  
> (3) angel!Nino, which takes place in my [Heaven (is a place on Earth)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/257104) AU 'verse from way back when  
> (4) Enomiya, where Nino throws Enomoto for a loop. For darkdropdrop. Just to return the favor ;D  
> (5) mundane dating AU where Nino is fragile and Ohno is patient

_**love so sweet** _

Ohno comes in every morning at seven to grab a pastry and a coffee on his way to work. Nino both loves and hates him for this.

“Good morning, Nino,” Ohno greets, the air of someone that has been up since five AM in order to fish floating around him with little sparkles. Nino garbles out a particularly incoherent reply and slumps against the counter. Ohno laughs and pats his head. “Up late playing video games again, huh?”

“Nghhh,” Nino says. Ohno nods as if this makes sense and shuffles off to place his order with Jun. By the time he returns, Nino has managed to crawl his way into just enough wakefulness to form sentences. “Why do you have to have work so _early?_ ” He demands, already ringing up Ohno’s usual purchase.

“I get sleepy in the afternoons,” Ohno tells him.

“You get sleepy whenever you stand still for five minutes.” Nino points out.

Ohno laughs, unoffended, and Nino smiles to himself. His heart absolutely does not skip a beat, thank you very much.

“See you tomorrow?” Ohno offers as he takes his breakfast in hand.

Nino ducks his head to hide his pleased expression. “Tomorrow,” he agrees.

 

* * *

 

_**go straight to happy-ever-after** _

Ohno wakes up the next morning to an empty bed and sounds coming from his kitchen. He blinks sleepily against the sun, then rolls out of bed and slips into a pair of boxers left haphazardly strewn across his floor. He makes his way to the bathroom first, then down the hall. He stops in the kitchen doorway.

Nino is there. Still there, when Ohno had half-imagined he’d be gone by morning. Instead, he’s standing at Ohno’s stove, wearing Ohno’s shirt and nothing else as he nudges something with a spatula. His hair is sleep-mussed and adorable. The neck of Ohno’s shirt sits unevenly on his shoulder, revealing a patch of skin that Ohno has vivid memories of tasting and biting the night before.

“I know you’re back there,” Nino says, though he doesn’t turn to look.

Ohno grins and goes to join him. He wraps his arms around Nino’s middle and hooks his chin over his shoulder. Nino relaxes back against him. They rock together for a moment. Now that he’s closer, Ohno can see what Nino’s cooking: pancakes.

“No awkward Morning After?” Ohno inquires.

Nino smiles and gives a tiny laugh. “I thought we’d skip that part.”

Ohno hums and presses his lips to that same patch of skin he’d spied a moment ago. He inhales the scent of Nino and Nino in the morning and Nino wearing his clothes. He grins when Nino shudders under his attention.

“Okay,” he agrees, and Nino covers his hands with one of his own, squeezing briefly.

 

* * *

 

**_they say in heaven, love comes first_ **

Nino, as it turns out, is kind of a terrible angel.

“Hey!”

Ohno snickers and continues to sketch out the general shape of the bright gold wings that are currently spread out over his bed. They really are stunning. Ohno can spend hours on end just staring at them, tracing his eyes along the contours of each feather and joint with dedicated fascination. Nino seems self-conscious about them, will blush and look away under Ohno’s attention, but ever since that first day when Ohno asked him not to hide them, he’s left them out in the open whenever they’re alone.

Ohno’s fingers itch to touch. Thus far, he hasn’t been able to work up the nerve.

“It’s true, though,” he points out. Nino huffs, turns his face so he’s looking away from Ohno.

“You don’t have to say it like that,” he mutters, petulant. He’s quiet for a bit, but Ohno can feel a tension in the air that wasn’t there a moment ago. So he waits, adding some light crosshatching to his sketch. Finally, Nino seems to find the words: “I can, you know. If… if you want me to, I can.”

Ohno looks at him. Nino is still refusing to meet his eyes, but Ohno knows he’s being sincere. He would, if Ohno asked him to: complete his mission, do what it was he was sent down here to do.

“If you did,” Ohno says, “you’d have to leave.”

Nino’s breath hitches. He gives a jerky nod.

Ohno smiles. “Then no,” he says. “Not just yet.”

_Maybe_ , he thinks to himself, _not ever._

 

* * *

 

_**and now for something completely different** _

Enomoto has begun to describe his life in two phases: _Before Nino_ and _After Nino_.

_Before Nino_ is easier to categorize than _After Nino_. _Before Nino_ , Enomoto’s life is easy. He wakes up, he eats breakfast, he goes to work, he tinkers with his locks, he comes home. Simple. Neat.

_After Nino_ is… less so.

“I have work,” Enomoto says, insistent, as if this should be enough to dissuade the young man wrapped tightly around him.

“Skip it,” Nino encourages. The words are mouthed right against Enomoto’s skin in a way that draws a shiver out of him against his will. “You’ve got plenty of vacation days; I know you never use them.”

“But.” Enomoto begins. He means to finish, but Nino’s fingers snake up to remove his glasses and Nino’s mouth moves from the skin of his shoulder to the skin of his neck. It suddenly becomes a great deal harder to find the right words. By the time Nino is done with him, Enomoto is so thoroughly late that he may as well not go in, and Nino is curled against his chest with a satisfied smirk.

They don’t get up for breakfast; instead they have an early lunch in bed. When they’re done, they relocate to the couch, where Nino allows Enomoto to find a lock to fuss with while he slumps against Enomoto’s side and plays with his video games.

_After Nino_ is a difficult thing, because every day _After Nino_ is different. Nino is barely-controlled chaos in a tiny, snark-filled form. Routine is meaningless with him. Enomoto barely has time to keep pace, let alone plan ahead.

It is, Enomoto thinks as his lock clicks open far sooner than he expects, perhaps the better way to live.

 

* * *

 

_**bear with me (I’m fragile)** _

“I’m a space pirate,” Nino says the first time Ohno asks, evasive and a firm believer in never giving too much away on a first date. “You caught me on shore leave.”

Ohno grins and asks, unashamedly, about his latest booty capture.

It’s dumb. Nino laughs anyway and feels a little of the tension in him ease.

*

“A secret agent,” Nino says the next time, months and many dates later, when they are waiting for their movie to start and Ohno has been trying — and failing — to subtly shuffle closer to Nino for a few moments now. “I could tell you more, but I’d have to kill you.”

“That’s okay,” Ohno says, and gives up any hope of casual disinterest with the way that he finally plasters himself to Nino’s side. “I like the mystery.”

Nino turns to stare at him. He looks for so long that he misses the start of the film entirely.

*

“I compose,” Nino says, the last time Ohno asks him. They are in his apartment and Ohno is staring at his piano with fascination. Nino feels heat in his cheeks and a pressure in his chest. He ducks his head and looks up at Ohno shyly, nervous as he shuffles the half-finished songs and blank sheet music in his hands before finally setting them aside.

Ohno smiles in that way that lights up his whole face. “Can I hear one?” He asks, his hand reaching out with confidence to capture one of Nino’s.

Nino exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He threads their fingers together and nods.

 


	7. set seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) AU where Ohmiya are from the same tiny hometown and don't regret staying  
> (2) last night, Ohno took a boy home; today he might not leave  
> (3) Arashi+Snow because it is still so hot outside where I live  
> (4) Ohmiya in a closet (only it's not sexy at all)  
> (5) Ohno sets up a very thoughtful date; Nino is easier to please than that

**_all the what-ifs and unsure futures_ **

On summer evenings, when it’s hot and muggy and the air feels heavy, they open the screen doors and lay together on the wooden porch. Nino tucks himself in against Ohno’s side. It’s too hot for cuddling, but Ohno doesn’t push him away.

They’re quiet for a long time. Ohno watches the stars. Nino watches the way his hand rises and falls in sync with Ohno’s breathing, fingers resting over Ohno’s heart. There are cicadas crying faintly in the background.

On nights like these, with nothing to distract them, it’s easy to begin to wonder, vague and sleepy, at what might have been. Nino thinks of Tokyo — of glitz and glamor and movie deals. Ohno remembers an embossed invitation to a prestigious art academy overseas. Possibilities: leaving their small hometown behind for something a little bigger.

Ohno’s arm tightens around Nino’s shoulders; Nino presses his nose into Ohno’s neck and breathes in.

“Do you…” Nino begins sometimes, his thoughts lingering on regrets and uncertainties. He never finishes, but Ohno hears him all the same.

“No,” Ohno always answers, slow, like it matters.

Because it does. Because he is still an artist, his paintings selling well online and in the little gallery one town over, but he also always has time to fish and swim. And because Nino is still an actor, always stealing the lead roll at the local theater, but is also in the final stages of a deal to purchase the cafe he’s been working at since his first year of high school.

Because they can do this, right here and now — sit outside in the middle of summer and still see the stars.

Their lives are not grand. They aren’t famous or revered.

But Nino curls happily into Ohno’s arms and Ohno presses his smile into Nino’s hair, and it’s perfect all on its own.

 

* * *

 

**_he followed me home, can I keep him?_ **

Ohno comes home to a house more clean then he remembers. He pauses in his doorway and looks around. Nothing overly important has been disturbed or moved. Nothing is missing. It’s more like — the clutter has been rearranged, the trash taken out, the dishes done.

On his couch is a boy, curled into a ball and napping not-quite-soundly.

Ohno recognizes him, though he doesn’t know him well. They met only briefly the night before — long enough to trade names (Nino, his name is Nino) and lonely looks, to stumble back to Ohno’s apartment and fall into bed together. Ohno had woken first the next morning — this morning — a little before his alarm. He’d spent the extra time taking in Nino’s features, tracing the line of his nose and brushing gentle fingers against his cheek.

Ohno kneels down beside the couch and repeats himself now. His touch is light, but it still makes Nino’s nose scrunch, his pretty eyes flutter open. He wakes slowly. Ohno can tell the exact moment that he realizes that Ohno is there: he inhales sharply, his entire body tenses. He doesn’t move.

Ohno meets his eyes and feels — something. Curiosity, intrigue, _interest_.

“Hi,” he murmurs, his fingers still resting against Nino’s skin. “I’m home.”

Nino breathes in and out, so carefully that it must be deliberate. Then, “Hi,” and, “Welcome back.”

Ohno smiles. “I thought you’d be gone when I got back,” he tells him.

Something in Nino’s expression shutters. He looks away and admits after a brief hesitation, “No where else to go.”

“Ah,” Ohno says, and then repeats it as the words process. There is a story there and Ohno wants to hear it. For now, he knows better than to pry. He sits back so that he’s more comfortable, settles in, then reaches out and begins threading his fingers through Nino’s hair. Nino stays stiff and tense beneath his touch. Ohno knows what he’s expecting.

Ohno hums to himself. “I’m not a very good cook,” he says, as if this is normal. As if Nino has always been here and he’s just reminding him of this fact. “Why don’t we order take-out tonight?”

Nino is quiet and Ohno doesn’t push. He keeps petting him. After several moments, Nino begins to relax, bit by bit. “Okay,” he agrees.

Ohno looks back at him and sees a tentative smile. Something sparks. It feels a bit like something beginning.

 

* * *

 

**_baby it’s cold outside_ **

“No,” Nino says, stubborn and crabby from too little sleep and not enough cuddles. “Oh-chan, no. It’s too cold.”

“But Nino,” Ohno whines, “it’s _snowing_.”

“Yes, exactly,” Nino attempts to shake him off and somehow ends up with Ohno wrapped all the way around him, rather than just his arm. “Which is why I’m staying nice and warm indoors.”

“Hmm,” Aiba ponders from where he is currently bundled up so thoroughly that all that can be seen of him is his eyes and a bit of his hair, “I’m sensing an A no Arashi opportunity!”

“Please no,” says Sho, who is struggling with little success into his own snow gear.

“I’m leaving you all here,” says Jun, who is looking a touch more homicidal than when this shoot began.

“The experiment:” Aiba continues unhindered, excitement building, “Does Nino’s aversion to water extend to all forms??” He beams. “Sho-chan, help me get some snow!”

Sho visibly struggles with himself for a long moment, before finally caving, “Why?”

“So I can dump it on Nino and see what happens.”

Sho now looks as if he deeply regrets ever responding. “ _Exactly what part of that sounds like a good idea??_ ”

“Oh-chan, come on!” Nino wheedles, ignoring the rest of them. “Let’s stay here by the fire. I’ll make it worth your while,”

Ohno pauses from where he has been, with as little effort as possible, attempting to tug Nino towards the door. He looks at Nino consideringly and Nino grins.

“Seriously,” Jun says, “Leaving you here. All of you. Forever.”

 

* * *

 

**_this is what tiny closets were made for_ **

“How _exactly_ did you manage to get stuck in there?” says Jun, incredulous and very much judging them.

Nino is too busy squirming into a more comfortable position to answer, but Ohno — who is apparently completely content with being contorted into a tiny space with his favorite person and his pants undone — is kind enough to offer a smile that is at once both utterly lewd and perfectly serene.

Jun makes a face and decides, “Gross.”

Aiba tilts his head to one side and squints at the small dimensions of the closet. “How would that even work? Hey, Sho-chan, can we—”

“No.” Sho says, at the same time that Jun closes the door, muffling Nino’s indignant yell that quickly, to Jun’s immense horror, morphs into a moan.

 

* * *

 

**_went to so much trouble when I’m so easy to please_ **

Aiba won’t stop giggling behind the ridiculous fake mustache poorly fixed to his face and Nino can see Sho three tables down, trying very hard to hide behind his newspaper. It’s enough to make him want to start throwing mean words around. But then he looks at Ohno’s bright, hopeful face, and… well, that’s enough to make him resist.

Sort of.

“No, Mr. Waiter that I certainly don’t know from anywhere else,” he says. Aiba honest-to-god _meeps_ and Nino’s smirk is threatened only by his scowl, “I don’t want an appetizer. And you should tell the _customer_ over there that if he presses that newspaper any closer to his face, it’ll leave stains and I _will_ make fun of him for it on Monday.”

Aiba scurries off. He’s still gigging, so Nino can’t count it as a victory. Nino rolls his eyes and says to Ohno, “You know, we could have just been tormented by our friends at my place.”

Ohno pokes at the bread rolls on their table with a sullen pout. He went to a lot of trouble to set this up, after all. “But then it wouldn’t be a date.”

“Well, no,” Nino acknowledges. “It would be more like a ‘which base can we get to on the couch before Sho-chan spontaneously combusts’ sort of deal.”

Ohno brightens considerably at that. “Sex?”

Nino grins. “A whole afternoon’s worth, if we leave now.”

“Check please!”

In the kitchen, a hassled Jun roars, “SIT THE FUCK BACK DOWN! I already started your food!”


	8. set eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) Ohno steals an apple and Nino ends up keeping him  
> (2) Nino has poor self-control when Ohno is concerned  
> (3) ridiculous self-indulgent domestic fluff  
> (4) Nino's boyfriend is a creeper and he is lucky Nino loves him  
> (5) photographer!Ohno + busker!Nino because why not

**_steal your way into my heart, why don’t you_ **

“You have to pay for that,” Nino says. Dark eyes blink at him as the stranger that has sidled up to his fruit stall — the tiny one he works at on weekends for extra game money — slowly chews his bite of unpaid-for-apple. “Seriously, I’m not a charity. 50 yen for the apple or I’m calling the cops.”

The stranger looks as if he doesn’t understand a word that Nino is saying, which, really, is just his luck, isn’t it?

*

Nino ends up taking him home. He doesn’t really know why and he tries not to think about it too hard.

“This is Ohno,” he tells Aiba, Sho, and Jun when they get there. He’s got one hand curled around Ohno’s wrist and Ohno either doesn’t mind the contact or hasn’t noticed, because even though he no longer needs to be led around the streets, he hasn’t pulled away. “He stole one of my apples. I’m keeping him.”

“What—?” Sho begins, but the rest is lost as Nino tugs Ohno back to his room and closes the door behind them.

*

Ohno is, as it turns out, capable of saying more than his name. He just prefers not to, most days.

He likes instead to sit around and watch — people, things, nothing at all sometimes. Nino would ask what he’s thinking during those times, but he’s a little wary of the rabbit hole that might lead him down.

Besides, Ohno seems perfectly content to let Nino manhandle him around. He only complains a little at first, and these days mostly just scrunches his nose in response. It’s unbearably cute, which is why Nino starts making him lug the boxes of fruit to and from the market for him. He can’t see Ohno’s stupid, adorable face behind them.

*

“Where did you even come from?” Nino wonders aloud one night, not for the first time. They’re stretched out together on Nino’s bed; it’s a tight fit, intimate even if they’re both fully clothed. He’s running his fingers through Ohno’s hair, tracing Ohno’s features with curious hands as if he doesn’t already know every slope and edge.

Ohno doesn’t respond verbally, but he does give Nino a sleepy smile and close his eyes contently.

Nino huffs, but it’s all affection. He settles in beside Ohno and Ohno automatically wraps an arm around him. It doesn’t matter anyway, he figures. The important bit is where Ohno ended up — and where he’s decided to stay.

 

* * *

 

**_the definition of insanity_ **

“Really?” Jun says, incredulous but not particularly surprised. “Again?”

“What can I say?” Nino says. He’s all false nonchalance as he throws himself onto the couch beside Ohno and then rearranges the both of them so that he’s taking up as much space on Ohno as possible without the two of them melding together. “I was just too awesome for that job. They couldn’t handle it.”

“Uh huh.” Jun says, and directs his attention to Ohno. “He got fired for making out with you during his shift again, didn’t he?”

“Mmhm,” Ohno confirms, looking briefly pleased at the memory. “It was fun.”

Jun sighs, but knows better than to comment. He’s learned his lesson over the years.

 

* * *

 

**_home is not a place_ **

They go home in separate cars, always. Nino first, impatient and a little bit snappish after a long day of work. Ohno follows behind a while later, stopping to socialize in his own way with the rest of the group. Sho, Jun, and Aiba all knows that the two of them are going back to the same place. They also know better than to comment in public. It’s a hard life, sometimes, Ohno reflects as he checks the time on his phone and decides it has been long enough.

Nino is already showered and in his casual clothes by the time he gets there — soft PJ pants and a worn hoodie that his mother has been hounding him to get rid of. (Nino refuses, steadfast, and Ohno smiles every time. The hoodie used to be Ohno’s.)

Ohno comes in only briefly, stopping to press a kiss to Nino’s hair. Warm, affectionate, a little bit sleepy.

Nino makes a noise that is half-greeting, half-irritation. Ohno can tell from the music on the TV that he is dealing with a boss. He knows better than to interrupt for long. He nuzzles Nino’s cheek, then leaves him be, escaping to the bathroom to clean up.

When he comes back out, the game has been replaced by a nameless variety show that Ohno knows they won’t really watch. There’s a meal on the table, something pre-packaged. Nino is waiting, half-dozing where he sits. He stirs when Ohno sits down beside him, gives Ohno a slow smile that still never fails to make butterflies flutter in Ohno’s stomach. It’s a little overwhelming and Ohno takes a moment just to bask in it, because he can.

“Hey,” Nino grumbles, poking him with a chopstick and drawing him back out. “Don’t space out, old man. You need to eat before bed.”

“Ah,” Ohno says. “Right.”

He obediently picks up his own chopsticks, making Nino snort.

“Don’t know why I put up with you,” he mutters, but there is nothing but affection in his words.

“You married me,” Ohno points out with a pout. And it’s true — after all, Ohno has the matching ring to prove it. “Don’t pick on me.”

“I married you,” Nino parrots. “I can pick on you all I want.”

“Mean!” Ohno whines. He squirms when Nino pokes him again, but starts eating anyway, because he actually is hungry.

It’s a quiet night; they go to bed right after. Ohno slips under the covers first and Nino follows. They find their usual spots: Ohno flopped on his back, Nino tucked against his side. Ohno slides his fingers into Nino’s hair and pets him fondly, smiling up at the ceiling.

Nino’s breathing evens out quickly. Before he drifts off, though, Ohno hears him murmur, “Love you, old man.”

Ohno grins a little wider. Nino’s already asleep, but Ohno says it back anyway. Just because he can.

 

* * *

 

**_creeper_ **

“Oh my god,” Nino groans. He thinks this is a reasonable reaction to waking up to your boyfriend staring at you in your sleep, sketchpad in hand. “Are you actually serious right now.”

Ohno pouts. His pencil is still poised over the paper. “I can’t get your nose right.”

Nino presses his face into his pillow, earning a noise of protest from Ohno, and contemplates how severe Jun’s reaction would be if he threw something at Ohno and actually managed to hit him. Probably not worth it, he figures, but the mental image is satisfying at least. “I’m going to start sleeping at my place again if you keep this up, you creep.”

 

* * *

 

**_summer romance is overrated_ **

Ohno meets Nino when the leaves are just starting to change colors. He’s wandering the streets, camera in hand, looking for inspiration.

He finds it in the form of a tiny busker on a nondescript street corner. He’s wearing a coat that’s too big for him and the sleeves are rolled up so he can strum his guitar without obstruction. Something about the sight of this draws Ohno in; he takes a picture of those hands, the way the coat sleeves rest on his upper arms, the shape of the guitar cradled in his arms.

He takes dozens of photos, right through the end of the song, and is so absorbed that he misses the busker lifting his head and glaring at him.

“Oi,” the busker calls. Ohno snaps a picture at exactly this moment, capturing narrowed eyes, a crooked nose, thin lips all creased in irritation. “Pictures cost extra.”

Ohno lifts his head, squints in confusion. The busker kicks at an open guitar case at his feet and inside, bits of spare change jingle. He feels immediately guilty, lowering his camera. “I don’t have any money,” he says apologetically.

The busker’s mouth twists, but not in an unpleasant way. It looks more like an ‘I’m thinking’ way, his eyes giving Ohno a careful once-over so Ohno waits for whatever is coming next. He is rewarded with a sly sort of grin. Ohno wants to capture a photo of it, but resists. The busker stoops to begin collecting his change.

“That’s alright,” the busker offers. “You can make me dinner instead.”

“Ah…”

“And if you’re lucky,” he continues, putting his guitar away. His grin turns just a little bit dirty. “I’ll even let you take a couple of freebies.”

And, well. How can Ohno resist an offer like that?


	9. set nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) detective!Ohno and thief!Nino  
> (2) Ohmiya + cats  
> (3) someone makes the mistake of giving Nino a camera; pure crack  
> (4) old!Ohmiya who are saps  
> (5) Ohno leaves a shoe at Nino's apartment; Nino is confused

**_catch you catch me_ **

“These are tight,” Ohno observes, tugging at his wrist experimentally. The handcuff clangs as it hits the metal headboard, but holds fast.

“That was kind of the point,” Nino assures him, fingers nimble as he buttons up his shirt. Ohno’s shirt. It looks nice on him, if a little big in the shoulders and rumpled from a night on the floor.

Ohno pouts a little. “I thought this was about us,” he whines.

Nino pauses, right in the middle of tugging his pants on. It’s a brief thing, then he continues, fastening them and coming over to stand beside Ohno. Ohno looks up at him with the most pathetic expression he can muster and Nino has to laugh, because for being a police detective, Ohno certainly doesn’t look the part.

“You’re so _strange_ ,” Nino says, bemused. He leans over, close, stops just before their mouths touch. It’s enough that Ohno can feel the movement of his lips as he speaks. “Aren’t you supposed to be trying to catch me?”

And, well. Yes. He is. Because Ohno is a detective and Nino.

Nino is the greatest thief that ever lived.

The fact that every time Ohno manages to corner him, they end up in a hotel room together is beside the point.

Ohno pouts. “I wouldn’t have done anything.”

Nino looks down at him and a strange expression passes over his face. “I believe you,” he says, softly, like Ohno isn’t really meant to hear it. There’s something different in his voice — unguarded, raw. A little unsteady. It only lasts a moment, and then it’s gone and the mask of the confident thief has slipped back on, smoothly covering up the Nino that Ohno likes best.

“Well,” Nino chirrups. He gives Ohno’s cheek a pat. “This was fun. We should do again sometime.” He leans all the way over now, slants their lips together in a long kiss. It’s different, though; sweet, unhurried, almost tender. Nino has never kissed Ohno like this. When they part, Ohno stares at him for a long time.

“I’ll find you again,” he promises.

Nino smirks. “I’m counting on it.”

And then he’s gone.

Ohno sits back against the headboard. He thinks of all the things that Nino has stolen — art and jewels and money. But also — kisses and glances and maybe even Ohno himself.

He waits a good five minutes before he starts picking the lock on the handcuffs. Nino, he figures, deserves a head start.

 

* * *

 

**_our children were not supposed to be fuzzy_ **

Nino comes home one day and _cats_.

“Kittens.” Ohno corrects. They’re tiny, underfed little things. Three of them, barely a few weeks old probably, tripping over each other gracelessly.

They’re on Ohno’s lap and he looks absolutely _thrilled_.

“You can’t keep them.” Nino tells him, and then immediately retreats to the kitchen before the older man can respond.

He gets a few minutes of peace to steel himself for the oncoming battle. He hears Ohno trail after him eventually, and when Nino lifts his head from the refrigerator, he spies the furry little lumps falling over themselves trying to latch onto Ohno’s pant legs. They’re probably going to tear the fabric, he thinks.

“Kazu–” Ohno starts.

“No.” Nino says, firm. “No cats. We’ve _talked_ about this.”

They have. Not that it’s ever mattered with anything else they’ve talked about – like the Saturday morning fishing trips, or the spare room that Nino had wanted to turn into a music studio and Ohno had wanted to put his art supplies in and in the end the piano had ended up in the living room.

But still. Nino wants to cling to the idea that he has at least _some_ control in this relationship, alright.

Ohno is apparently in a mood, however. There’s a stubborn look forming on his face, determination setting into the line of his mouth, his brow furrowed. It’s more adorable than it is frightening, which makes it all the more dangerous. Nino, with no small amount of irritation, already feels his resolve wavering.

“They’re babies.” Ohno says.

“And I bet they were in a cardboard box when you found them.” Nino snips. He does, after all, hate to lose. “Was it raining, too?”

Ohno huffs a little. Nino waits. After a moment, Ohno deflates. “…not raining,” he admits grudgingly.

A heavy silence falls over them, neither of them budging.

A soft mewling breaks it. They both look down to find one of the kittens – an orange tabby – waving a plaintive paw at Nino.

Nino looks back up and stares at Ohno. Ohno smiles hopefully.

Nino sighs. “I swear,” he grumbles, stooping down to scoop the kitten up gently, “Sometimes you’re worse than _Aiba_.”

 

* * *

 

**_a stunning documentary achievement_ **

“And here we have the wild Ohno in his natural habitat,” Nino says, speaking formally and with the air of a professional even as Aiba laughs himself silly off camera and Ohno squishes his face into something ridiculous.

Sho is cackling; only half of him is in the frame. “Liar!” He declares. “We’re nowhere near a fishing boat!”

“It’s my secondary habitat!” Ohno insists. The camera begins to shake; Nino is laughing too hard to keep it steady.

“You look so dumb!”

“You _all_ look dumb,” Jun informs them fondly from where he is sitting beside Ohno.

Nino continues to laugh. “And now,” he says, turning the camera so it’s facing him, revealing a wicked smirk. “We shall see the wild Ohno’s mating habits.” Aiba howls and there is the sound of a chair tipping over, which sets Sho off as well. The camera returns to Ohno and moves closer. “Come here, Oh-chan!”

“Not on top of me!” Jun hollers, trying to escape too late and ending up right in the middle of a pile of Ohmiya snuggles instead.

 

* * *

 

**_old and grey_ **

Ohno wakes up to aches in his joints and a lonely spot in the bed beside him. Nino is already in the kitchen, sipping his coffee and skimming over sheets of music that are still works in progress. He doesn’t sleep as much these days, goes to bed earlier and wakes at hours that used to be reserved for Ohno’s fishing trips.

“Morning,” Nino greets him absently.

Ohno mumbles a reply; he won’t be coherent until he’s at least two cups in.

As he drinks his first, he takes in the sight of his other half. Forty-five looks good on Nino; a bit of the teenage look has finally faded away. There are wrinkles on his forehead, laugh lines around his eyes. A touch of grey to his hair that he steadfastly refuses to dye out. But beneath it all, he is the same — mischievous eyes, kitten grin, tiny spot on his chin that Ohno adores.

Ohno loves him. Just as much now as he did when they were teenagers.

Maybe more.

“Sap,” Nino tells him, still leafing through his pages.

Ohno pouts. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Didn’t have to,” Nino’s eyes finally lift away and meet Ohno’s; there’s a sparkle there that for the millionth time takes Ohno’s breath away.

“So mean,” Ohno huffs. He turns to pour his second cup, and in the time it takes him to do so, the chair at the kitchen table scrapes back. Seconds later there are arms wrapped around his middle, a chin on his shoulder. Ohno lets out a groan, only partially exaggerated; the weight of it really does make his bones creak.

“Old man,” Nino teases. There is nothing but affection in his tone.

“Not so young yourself.” Ohno points out, thoughtful. He hums a little, smiles faintly. His hands come up to cover Nino’s and for a moment they stand together, swaying very slightly. He says, quietly, “Love you.”

Nino huffs. “Sap.” He repeats. And then drops a kiss to Ohno’s shoulder, his own little way of saying _I love you too_.

 

* * *

 

**_so happy I’m stuck with you, you weirdo_ **

Nino finds a single shoe under his bed and can’t make sense of it. It’s not one of his, he can tell immediately from the size, and that’s more or less normal — Ohno leaves bits and pieces of his life spread out across Nino’s apartment like he’s unintentionally setting up a scavenger hunt. Nino’s used to finding odd tidbits in strange places.

What he can’t understand is why it’s just the _one_.

“You’ve never brought a spare pair of shoes over here,” he says, baffled. Ohno is holding the offending shoe and turning it this way and that, looking for all the world as if he’s never seen it before. “What, did you just — leave one day with only one shoe on?”

Ohno looks up from his inspection, a thoughtful look crossing his features briefly. “…maybe.”

Nino stares at him, and he wants to be frustrated with this, he really does. But Ohno’s unique brand of _weird_ has always been a soft spot for him, so the most he can manage is a noise that is half-laughter, half-incredulity. He says, “You’re going to drive me crazy when you move in, aren’t you?”

Ohno takes this in stride, as if it isn’t the first time they’ve ever talked about it. “Probably,” he acknowledges. He sets the shoe down and gives Nino a smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. “You’ll enjoy it, though.”

Nino laughs, helplessly fond. “Yeah,” he admits. “I think I will.”


	10. set ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) a sort of sequel-thing to [my honey honey koi no Study](http://xborn-of-ashesx.livejournal.com/32074.html#cutid4)  
> (2) Ohno misses Nino when he's not around  
> (3) Nino is clingy but Ohno knows how to handle him  
> (4) shameless (and short) porn  
> (5) Ohmiya double-date with Sho-chan

**_the true college experience_ **

The thing is, despite a year and a half of friendship and frequent time spent together, no one actually knows where Nino lives.

Which is why Sho finds himself standing outside the door to Ohno and Jun’s apartment at two in the morning, Nino slumped rather unhelpfully in his arms and Aiba letting out breathy little giggles against his back. Ohno answers, looking sleep ruffled and not entirely awake. Sho can spy Jun loitering behind him.

“Satoshi,” Sho greets pleasantly, and then immediately dumps Nino into Ohno’s arms. “This is yours.”

Ohno takes a long look at Nino – who is awake but well into the punch-happy phase of tonight’s escapades – and then announces with delight, “I love drunk!Nino!”

“Oh-chan~” Nino croons in reply, already reaching for him. The two begin to stumble back towards Ohno’s room.

Jun’s expression is thunderous. “I hate drunk!Nino,” he glowers. “Why didn’t you take him back to your place?”

“Because,” says Sho, who is unapologetic as he manhandles Aiba away, “drunk!Nino is handsy and I’d rather he molest his own boyfriend than mine.”

Jun appears to consider this logic. He glances back in the direction that Ohno and Nino went.

“Wait,” he says finally. “Let me grab my pillow; I’m crashing with you tonight.”

 

* * *

 

**_a week is so far away_ **

Ohno drowns his sorrows in a milkshake, and he isn’t happy about it.

“The bar is _right across the street_ ,” he whines, nudging at the large glass full of chocolate and whipped cream unhappily.

Sho is unmoved. “You’ve been drinking too much lately,” he says. He unwraps a straw and slides into the glass as if to make a point. When Ohno continues to pout, he adds, “It was either this or I let Aiba stage an intervention. And you remember what happened the last time we let him do that.”

At this, Ohno actually cracks a smile. “Jun’s face was funny.”

“Right up until Aiba started throwing his beauty products away,” Sho agrees. “Drink your milkshake.”

Ohno sulks, but eventually the lure of chocolate is a little too powerful even for him. So for a while, he drinks his milkshake and sulks at the same time. It’s quite impressive, he thinks.

When the milkshake is gone, Ohno pushes the glass aside and slumps onto the table, arms folded under his chin. “Hey, Sho,” he mumbles. “I miss Nino.”

Sho smiles at him with that familiar exasperated-but-fond look that Ohno often receives. “I know,” he says, reaching over to pat Ohno on the head. “He’ll be back soon, I promise. It’s just for a week.”

 

* * *

 

**_love is an endless exchange_ **

Nino’s been teetering close to a whine all morning, but it’s not until Ohno starts making a genuine attempt at untangling himself that he breaks into one properly.

“At least let me shower with you. It’ll save water.” He wheedles, using the tone he always gets when he feels he’s been about to be unfairly deprived of Ohno’s attention. Ohno is usually weak to this, but he’s significantly more afraid of Jun’s wrath than he is of Nino’s clinginess, and thus continues extracting himself from Nino’s rather impressive death grip.

“No it won’t.” He lets out a breathy laugh when, upon tugging one of Nino’s arms away from his waist, Nino takes this as an invitation to thread their fingers together instead. “If we’re late again, Jun-kun will be mad.”

“J’ll be mad no matter what we do,” Nino grumbles. “He’s pissy because the humidity keeps fucking up his hair.”

Nino is not actually wrong about this, but Ohno knows better than to give him an inch. “We can spend all the time you want together when we get home,” he offers in trade.

Nino contemplates this for a moment.

“Cuddling,” he decides finally, eyes narrowed. “While I play my PS3. And you don’t get to complain about the dungeon music.”

Ohno laughs, and Nino is still stuck so close to him that it easily morphs into a kiss against his forehead. “Deal.”

 

* * *

 

**_little bit dirty now_ **

Ohno doesn’t say a word, but his fingers stay tight in Nino’s hair the whole time, guiding and encouraging. It’s hotter than it has any right to be — Nino had never figured himself for the type that gets off on pain, but the way Ohno’s fingers tug and squeeze is almost intoxicatingly good.

Afterwards — after Ohno has come down Nino’s throat and then jerked him off fast and rough — they sit side by side, their backs against the wall, and pass a cigarette back and forth.

“You know,” Nino says after a long, comfortable silence. His voice is a little hoarse, his throat raw, but it feels satisfying more than it hurts. “When you said you’d help me with the choreography, this isn’t what I had in mind.”

Ohno takes a long drag and exhales the smoke. “Complaining?”

Nino grins. “Not at all.” He reaches over to take his turn, and ends up holding Ohno’s hand instead. “I think Sho might have a heart attack if we did _that_ on stage, though.”

 

* * *

 

**_make it double_ **

“Thanks for this,” Sho says, nervous as he checks his tie, his collar, then his watch in near constant rotation. “Seriously. I know you have other things you could be doing.”

Nino shrugs it off — while he might have enjoyed spending his evening with a cheap meal and his newest game, he’s not enough of a dick to leave a friend in need hanging. Especially when that friend is Sho, in near hysterics because he was down one-fourth of a double date thanks to his friend from the radio statio abruptly canceling on him.

“Who’s this guy supposed to be, anyway?” Nino already knows all about Sho’s date — Mari-chan is apparently a goddess in human form that performs regular miracles. According to the much less love-struck Jun, she’s a nurse with a nervous giggle that’s sort of cute, if you’re into that kind of thing.

Nino’s date, however, has yet to be discussed.

Sho shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “His name is Ohno. He and Mari-chan have been friends since they were children.” Sho hesitates, then adds, “They’re very close. Please be nice.”

Nino pulls a face at him. “I’m always nice.”

Sho does not look convinced, but he cuts himself off as he spies someone familiar in the crowd. “Mari-chan!”

He goes to meet her. Nino twists around to watch — and instead finds himself staring at the man pulling a face as Sho and the girl Nino assumes to be Mari have a ludicriously sappy moment beside him. The man is small, far too tan, and his cheeks are ridiculous; he’s not Nino’s type at _all_ , except for all the ways that he is. He catches Nino watching and smiles.

Nino’s heart does not skip a beat, thank you very much.

(”Did so.” Ohno retorts, petulant. Nino rolls his eyes and swats at him. Ohno is undeterred, catching Nino’s wrist and tugging at him until he’s nearly in Ohno’s lap, where Ohno can nuzzle at him to his heart’s content. “It _did so_ skip. You told me so.”

“ _You’re not supposed to tell people that_ ,” Nino hisses. He wriggles in Ohno’s grasp, it’s apparent that he’s not really trying to get away.

“I hate you a little bit for ever introducing them,” Jun informs Sho. He takes a picture of them cuddling as he talks, promptly setting it to the background for their contact information.

“We have Sho-chan to blame,” Aiba agrees with a solemn nod. “Hey, whatever happened to Mari-chan?”

“Mari who?” Sho says, distracted. He’s far too busy making faces down at the baby in his arms to pay attention. The baby coos in return and Sho’s heart melts a little more. “Hey, do you think Nino and Ohno would mind if she came home with me tonight? Guys?”)


	11. set eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) tying ties requires touching, apparently  
> (2) Nino has commitment issues but Ohno's okay with that because he's cute  
> (3) some kinda non-Johnny's!AU where Nino's boss' assistant has a nice ass  
> (4) AU where Ohno is famous and Nino's not  
> (5) Ohmiya have ridiculous(ly adorable) traditions

**_tie me up in knots_ **

Sho walks in on Nino straddling Ohno on the couch and it is a testament to how much he has endured over the years that he barely even blinks.

“At least lock the door,” Jun complains, right on Sho’s heels.

Nino sends him a withering glare from over his shoulder. “I’m fixing his tie, you pervert.”

“Who’s a pervert?” Aiba asks. He stumbles a little when Jun stops unexpectedly, falling right against Jun’s back. He doesn’t bother to correct himself and instead takes advantage of his new position to get a quick MatsuJun cuddle in before they’re due on stage.

“You are,” Nino says, at the same time Jun retorts, “Fixing his tie requires you to be on his lap now?”

Aiba snickers. Sho sighs.

“He squirms,” Nino explains with a shrug.

“Only because you keep _touching_ me!” Ohno protests. “You promised you wouldn’t do that before shows anymore!”

“Hush, Oh-chan,” Nino says. “Tying ties requires touching.”

“Not down there it doesn’t!”

 

* * *

 

**_make a little room in your heart_ **

Nino cleans it out on an impulse, thinking of practicality and efficiency and everything that is not his emotionally stunted insecurities, which promptly catch up with him as soon as he realizes what he’s done. This being the case, he doesn’t tell Ohno until months later.

When he does, it’s not by choice.

“How come this drawer is empty?”

Nino lifts his head from his phone. Ohno moves aside so Nino can see—

“Fuck.” Nino says.

Ohno’s brow furrows. He looks back at the open drawer in Nino’s dresser dubiously. “I don’t think we’ll fit.”

Nino throws a pillow at him and Ohno laughs as he dodges. Nino reaches for another. He doesn’t get to throw it this time; Ohno tackles him to the bed and pins him there. They’re pressed cheek to cheek and Nino can feel the way that Ohno grins. “Seriously,” Ohno says. “Why?”

Nino debates with himself, but it’s a lost cause anyway. He takes a bracing breath.

“It’s for you,” he says. His voice cracks a little and he hates himself for it. “If you want it.”

He keeps a straight face despite the tension running through him. But Ohno knows him, maybe too well. A kiss is pressed to his cheek. Nino’s eyes flutter shut instinctively at the touch.

“Kazu is so cute,” Ohno says fondly.

His grunt when Nino knees him (gently) in the stomach is a little less fond, but, well. That’s love for you.

 

* * *

 

**_story time (poor sho)_ **

“—and then we fucked,” Nino finishes grandly.

She drops his head onto the table with a miserable thunk. “ _Why would you tell us that???_ ” he demands, distressed.

“Why wouldn’t you tell us _details_???” Aiba corrects. “How good was it? What did you do, did you— _OW!_ Jun-kun, your rings really hurt!”

“You’re an idiot,” Jun says. It’s not clear who it’s directed at — Nino, Aiba, or both. Probably both. It’s definitely aimed at Nino when he says, “I thought you were supposed to screw your boss for a promotion, not his assistant.”

Sho whines against the table. Nino shrugs.

“What can I say?” Nino says. “Oh-chan has a nicer ass.”

 

* * *

 

**_your biggest fan_ **

Nino’s a fanboy. It’s pathetic, but true. He’s hopelessly in love with an idol and really, it’s not his fault that the man is so impossibly perfect that Nino can’t stay away. He acts, he sings, he dances, he draws. Nino is constantly in awe.

He never misses a show.

“Stop it,” Ohno whines. Nino’s grin turns wicked.

“It’s true,” he goes on to an enthralled Aiba, who clearly had no idea what he was in for when he asked about the wallpaper on Nino’s phone. “I’m obsessed. Every album, every movie. I have a shelf at home full of memorabilia.”

“ _Kazu_ ,” Ohno pleads, tugging at Nino insistently.

“Hush, Oh-chan,” Nino chides. “I’m telling Aiba-chan about my celebrity crush.”

“ _I’m_ your celebrity crush!” Ohno protests. “It’s embarrassing.”

“That’s what you get for being famous,” Nino brushes him off. Under the table, though, his hand is squeezing Ohno’s; Ohno may find his gushing embarrassing, but to Nino, there’s nothing better than having the chance to brag about his famous boyfriend.

After all, he’s so very proud.

 

* * *

 

**_little traditions_ **

It’s not meant to be a game. Not at first, anyway. Nino buys it on a spur-of-the-moment thought that pops into his mind as he passes by the store window. He then spends two weeks stressing over it before finally stuffing the small, red, heart-shaped box into Ohno’s bag right before he leaves work for the next day. And then he goes home and murders digital things to take his mind off of it.

Ohno, being Ohno, doesn’t find it until days later. And even then, _Nino_ doesn’t know that he found it until their next shared day off, when Ohno waits until the single most inconvenient moment possible to bring it up.

“You got me chocolate,” he says, like his fingers aren’t digging bruises into Nino’s hips as Nino rocks down against him with single-minded determination.

Nino stares down at him incredulously.

“For Valentine’s Day,” Ohno adds, as if that makes it better.

“ _Are you serious right now,_ ” is what Nino wants to say, but he’s right at the edge and well passed the point where coherent sentences are possible. Maybe Ohno realizes this — or maybe, more likely, he just gets impatient with the fact that Nino has stopped moving — because he rolls them over with one fluid motion and proceeds to thoroughly finish what Nino started.

They don’t mention it again. Just like they don’t mention the fact that Nino finds a similar box hidden in his sock drawer about a week after White Day has come and gone.

And that’s the start of it. They don’t talk about it, but later that year Nino finds his birthday present under the towels in his linen closet and by the time Ohno discovers his Christmas gifts in his freezer, war has all but been declared.

It goes on for a few years. For a brief time the rest of Arashi even gets involved; this is put to a quick and painful death by Jun, who is livid when he finds that a gift from Aiba hidden in his bag has melted and ruined one of his favorite hats. The game falls back to just Ohno and Nino, who are content to keep it to themselves.

And then, one year, Nino comes home and finds a wrapped box waiting for him on his kitchen counter.

He eyes it warily. It’s not the first time one of them has thought to use a decoy, and more often than not _those_ end up being pranks.

Ohno is already home, dozing on Nino’s couch. Nino grabs the ‘gift’ and goes to kick him awake.

“What’s this?” Nino demands, shoving it in Ohno’s face.

Ohno blinks. He goes crosseyed looking at the colorfully wrapped box. “’s for you,” he says.

Nino’s eyes narrow. “It’s not my birthday,” he says. “Or our anniversary. Or Christmas or Valentine’s. Why?” He gives the box a little rattle for emphasis.

Ohno’s smile is sleepy but far too sincere to allow Nino to hold onto his suspicions. “Open it,” he urges.

Nino frowns, but begins to tear the paper off anyway. The box underneath is brown cardboard with no logos or designs. The top flap is folded down, not even taped shut, and Nino lifts it up and reaches inside. What he pulls out makes his breath hitch.

“Oh-chan,” he begins. He doesn’t know how to finish it, so he doesn’t. Ohno is still smiling, but it’s softer now, and Nino gets a warm sort of shiver down his spine at the sight of it. He runs his thumb over the velvet of the ring box sitting on his palm, bites his lower lip, and finally pries the top open.

And then promptly chucks it at Ohno’s head.

Ohno dodges admirably, cackling as he rolls right off the couch.

“I’m going to kill you,” Nino promises. The ring box bounces off the back of the couch and lands at his feet. There is no ring inside; just a little slip of paper with the words _Find Me!_ scrawled on it. “I’m going to make you tell me where my ring is, and then I’m going to kill you.”

Ohno isn’t particularly bothered, even as he begins to run for his life; it’s the best _yes_ he could have asked for.


	12. set twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In this set, we have...**  
>  (1) Ohno has a very important question for Nino  
> (2) mundane AU where Aiba gets himself and Nino into trouble and Nino benefits anyway  
> (3) Ohno is not Nino's boyfriend anymore. He's NOT!  
> (4) Ohno/alcohol is Nino's noTP  
> (5) Ohno is clutzy off-stage; Nino takes good care of him

**_darling, smile while you laugh_ **

“No,” Nino says the first time, three minutes before they’re due on stage and trying to wrangle his scarf into something that won’t strangle him in the wind. Stupid outdoor venues.

Ohno sulks. “No?”

“No.”

The others watch, bemused, but nobody has a chance to ask.

*

The next time, they’re about two minutes from starting an episode of VS Arashi. Ohno’s been hovering near Nino for several moments, which isn’t unusual, but the fact that Nino’s ignoring him kind of is.

When the director calls out that they have 30 seconds, Ohno leans forward to drop his chin onto Nino’s shoulder. “Yes?”

Nino scowls and shrugs him off. “ _No_.”

Ohno pouts, but retreats to an acceptable distance. He’s noticeably less enthusiastic throughout the episode.

*

It keeps happening. In between interview questions, in the middle of photo shoots, before and after tv appearances. It’s always the same: a hopeful look in Ohno’s eyes, a glare in Nino’s.

“Yes?”

“No.”

On and on for weeks. The rest of Arashi would be concerned if the rest of their behavior wasn’t so utterly normal that it was obvious nothing was seriously wrong. Still, they wonder.

*

And then, finally: they’re in the green room, mostly winding down after a long day of activity. Nino’s hammering away at his 3DS, slumped against a dozing Ohno’s side. It’s quiet but for the sound of his game and the faint hum of music coming from Jun’s headphones.

Nino nudges at Ohno until Ohno opens his eyes. “Huh?”

“Yes.” Nino says, and then scowls at something on his screen.

It takes Ohno a moment. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

The whoop that Ohno lets out is loud enough that it startles a napping Sho awake with an almost violent snort. He captures one of Nino’s hands. Nino makes a noise of protest at having his game interrupted, but makes no actual attempt at shaking him off.

“Nino and I are getting married!” Ohno announces, grinning wide.

Nino turns a scowl on him. “That’s not how you propose, you idiot!”

They begin to bicker. The others stare for a moment. Sho sighs and rolls over, returning to his nap. Jun mutters a vague, “Huh,” and returns to flipping through his magazine.

Aiba looks thoughtful. “Hey, Jun-kun…”

“ _No_.”

 

* * *

 

**_pick me up (not like that!)_ **

It’s almost 7pm.

Nino knows this because he’s been checking his phone obsessively ever since Aiba’s car began making pitiful coughing sounds right before expiring on the side of the road with a whimper.

That was at 3pm.

“4 hours,” Nino grouses. “We’ve been stuck here _4 hours_.”

Aiba lifts his head from where it has been stuck under the hood of his car. He’s been like that for about half of those 4 hours; the other half has been spent trying to pacify his furious friend. “I know,” he says, mournful. “I’m sorry. I promise to treat you to ramen to make up for it, okay?”

This is the fifth time he’s made that promise and Nino fully intends on making him pay up for each and every one. But even Nino has his limits. 4 hours on the side of the road? That’s one of them.

He opens his mouth, about to start yelling, where there is a sputter and rumble from down the road. The sun is too low on the horizon to actually see what’s making the sound, but if Nino had to guess, it’s probably the ugliest, oldest piece of junk truck ever to mar the road. The truck comes grunting down the road with all the grace of a dying cat, finally coming to a stop a short distance from where Nino and Aiba have been stuck.

A head pops out of the passenger window. “Are you guys okay?”

Nino looks at the man, all sloped shoulders and attractive face. He glances at Aiba’s car with its hood up and Aiba, covered in grease, then back at him somewhat incredulously.

The man laughs, a little sheepish. “Sorry,” he says. “We’ll give you a ride into town, get in.”

Aiba is throwing himself into the backseat before Nino can remind him about all those stories his mother told them both as children about air-headed boys who forget to wash their socks or put away dishes and get into cars with strangers only to end up murdered.

(Aiba-mama’s stories were never subtle but they did often cover several points at once. Nino preferred them to his own mother’s stories, which tended to start with “if you don’t clean up this mess I will burn everything you own” and end with “should have sold you to the circus when I had the chance.”)

Nino follows at a more sedate pace, and by the time he is slipping into the passenger-side backseat, Aiba has already told the strangers his name, age, height, life story, and the fact that they were on their way to meet their friend Jun when his car had the bad taste to die on them.

“This is Sho-san and Ohno-san,” Aiba tells Nino, as if he’s known them for years. To Sho-san and Ohno-san, he says, “We were really lucky you came when you did. We might have been stuck there all night, otherwise!”

He elbows Nino, who it should be noted does not actually roll his eyes. Self-control, he has it. “My heroes,” Nino drawls.

He means it sarcastically, on account of the fact that he still doesn’t know if they’re about to be butchered, but the driver — Ohno-san? — chuckles. When he glances back at Nino, his eyes have a sparkle to them that’s hard to look away from. His grin is lopsided and adorable. Nino feels heat on his cheeks before he can stop himself.

“We’re headed the same way,” Sho-san tells them.

“Lucky!” Aiba cheers, which prompts a laugh from Sho.

“Yeah,” Nino echoes, willing his blush to go down as he catches Ohno-san’s eyes in the rear view mirror. “Lucky.”

 

* * *

 

**_you’re hot and you’re cold_ **

“—and Nino and his boyfriend,” Aiba says, only to be cut off by a terse, “ _Ex_ -boyfriend.”

“He’s not your ex if you’re still sleeping with him,” Jun points out, paying more attention to his phone than the conversation.

Nino sniffs. “That’s just to let off steam.”

At this, Jun lifts his focus to stare at Nino, unimpressed. “You made him dinner on Valentine’s Day.”

“Not my boyfriend!”

Sho sighs. “Ohno-san,” he says, turning to the man who has been peacefully ignoring them in favor of daydreaming about — fish, probably, if the look on his face is any indication. “Are you and Nino dating again or not?”

Ohno smiles beatifically. “Of course,” he says.

Nino flails, bright red and sputtering, and looks vaguely murderous, only to deflate to something more akin to _angry-wet-kitten_ when Ohno leans over to press a kiss to his cheek. Jun radiates smugness and, fearlessly, lifts his phone to snap a picture of Nino’s face.

A small but vicious war breaks out.

Aiba pouts in the midst of flying napkins and coffee creamers. “Guys, I wasn’t _finished_.”

 

* * *

 

**_You need a chaperonage (when did I volunteer?)_ **

The thing about Ohno is that he really only has two settings for drinking: one drink and he passes out, or _ten_ drinks and he starts crying about how much he loves everything. There is no in-between.

It’s just Nino’s luck that tonight it’s the latter.

“Come on, Oh-chan,” he coaxes, trying to get the fourth shot glass away from Ohno before he can drink it. Ohno tugs back and it sloshes over both of them, which — _great_. But at least Ohno can’t drink it now. “No!” Nino grabs for Ohno’s hand before he can raise it to request another from the bartender, who is watching them with far too much amusement.

“’m not _done_ yet,” Ohno slurs insistently. He moving in a way that suggests he would be trying to shake Nino offer if he were sober, but because he is very much not sober, it instead makes him look like a particularly attractive worm wiggling against Nino’s side.

“I know you’re not,” Nino says. Carefully, he begins to detach Ohno from the bar counter. “But wouldn’t you rather finish up at home?” Ohno looks dubious, so Nino adds, in a whisper, “Where no one else can watch us?”

It takes a moment for that to sink into Ohno’s alcohol-laden brain. But his eyes light up and he slings an arm around Nino’s shoulders with such gusto they both almost toppled over. “Okay!” He agrees loudly, right beside Nino’s ear. Nino flinches at the volume and stumbles at his sudden weight, but with careful work he manages to get them both out the door and into a taxi.

After about two minutes of driving, Nino feels Ohno’s head loll against his shoulder.

He sighs. Very quietly, he grumbles, “You are so very, very lucky that I love you.”

 

* * *

 

**_trip and fall (right into my arms)_ **

“People are going to think I’m abusing you,” Nino chides. He’s cleaning a cut on Ohno’s lip with a cotton ball, doing his best to be gentle even as Ohno winces.

“Sorry.”

Nino huffs, but it’s more laugh than anger. “I will never understand,” he says fondly, “how you can be so damn graceful on a stage surrounded by thousands of people and still trip over your feet everywhere else.”

Because honestly, only Nino’s boyfriend would make it a habit to _actually_ walk into doors or fall down stairs. This was one thing Nino hadn’t really known when they’d started dating. Oh, sure, he’d known Ohno wasn’t quite as quick on his feet in his everyday life, but he hadn’t realized the extent of it.

Oh well, he thinks, tossing the cotton ball away. He’s in too deep now for it to matter.

Catching Ohno’s chin, he leans forward to press a kiss to the cut. “Stop hurting my boyfriend.”

Ohno smiles at him, though it must hurt. “But Nino takes such good care of me when I do,” he says, settling his hands on Nino’s hips and brushes his thumbs across the sliver of skin peeking out from under his shirt.

Nino makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a snort. “I’ll take good care of you anyway,” he promises, and then hides his face against Ohno’s neck to cover his embarrassment at saying something so damn sappy. Ohno hums, pleased with this development, and makes no move to dislodge him.

His cut feels better already.


End file.
